Aspectabund: Letting or being able to let expressive emotion show easily through one's face and eyes.
Loki is not at all amused when Thor comes back to their chambers, clutching a failed Foreign Policy exam to his chest. The tutor, likewise, had also been distinctly unamused by Thor's answers.
"By the Norns, Your Grace!" the wizened old man had squeaked, nearly toppling himself off his chair in the process. "You cannot just say that you would feed dissenters copious amounts of this Midgardian invention you call cheesecake and hope they will comply with your wishes!" Thor had been disgruntled at this, and was about to go down to Manhattan and order however many cheesecakes it took for the old codger to see what powers that fine Midgardian delicacy possessed.
"I will not write your paper for you!" Loki says, pushing the prompt away with a disgruntled look on his face. "I was not the one that failed that test; furthermore, I believe one of your fellow Avengers' uncles enjoys the saying that with great power comes great responsibility, although, looking you over, I have to wonder if you are capable of possessing either of these qualities."
Thor pouts. "That particular uncle is dead," he points out.
Loki scoffs, rolling his eyes and flapping his hands at the paper, which Thor has miraculously managed to slip into Loki's personal space. "Lovely for him," Loki says, pushing the paper back towards Thor. "And you must admit, your answer was quite stupid. Some people are not fond of cheesecake."
This brings Thor's attention back towards the problem at hand, and an idea begins to formulate somewhere in the recesses of his brain.
Keeping his mouth firmly closed so he will not betray himself, Thor turns on his heel and walks - almost runs - out of the room, leaving Loki with a bemused expression on his face.
Loki returns from the library to find that every available surface in his and Thor's chambers has been covered with cheesecake of all flavours: chocolate, peanut butter, raspberry, strawberry, anything and everything Thor had been able to get his hands on. Thor stands by the door, looking gleeful, and hands him a fork.
Loki sighs, letting a little smile show, his eyes crinkling at the corners and a little dimple appearing by his mouth, and sets to work.
"Your Grace, your essay is laid out very succinctly," the tutor says the next week as he pores over the paper Thor hands in. "Your points on foreign policy are quite valid, and, I must say, your writing seems to have improved tremendously between this week and last. Although, I must ask, why is your concluding paragraph smeared with whipped cream?"
Thor just shrugs at him.